Snakes on a Plane
by Enide Dear
Summary: Cid finds a mysterious stowaway on his airship and he is not happy about it
1. Chapter 1

There was someone on his ship, gods damn it, Cid just *knew* it. For other pilots it would just be long-flight paranoia kicking in; the kind of phantoms the mind conjured up after days and nights all alone in a huge airship, flying cargo to remote destinations. But Cid knew his ship inside out and he could feel the infinitely small way the vibrations of the motors had changed since he had made that quick stop in Wutai, could read the minuscular off-balance shift in balance and output and he knew. He had a stowaway.

He would have suspected it to be some prank of Yuffies because of that stop in Wutai, but Yuffie was in Midgar, visiting Cloud and Tifa. It could be that damn cat doll of Reeves if Cid hadn't picked up new microchips for Reeve just the other day and would not be able to get them to the engineer/spy for at least a week. And your brain kinda broke if you tried to imagine Vincent or Barret or Nanaki jumping out of the shadows shouting 'surprise!'.

Cid put the Highwind on autopilot and grabbed a trusted old javelin. If anyone was hiding in the shadows of his ship, they were about to get a pointed surprise. If anyone wanted a flight on his ship they'd either pay for it or work for it. He really couldn't abide slackers.

Sneaking wasn't Cid's A-game but he did his best, following the off-centered vibrations towards the cargo hall and honing in on a particular shadow between some crates. It was noisy enough from the engines here to cover any sound his feet may make, so Cid just stayed out of sight and in a flash of inspiration climbed up some cargo boxes to peer down on his hidden 'guest'.

He almost fell down the boxes when his eyes adjusted enough to the gloom to see and he must have made some involuntary motion because at the scraping sound of his boots against cargo boxes, a beaten-up face turned upwards, the faint light glittering in broken shards of shades.

"What the actual sweet green fuck?!" jumping down, Cid quickly hid behind the box and then peered out from another angle. This clever ploy however seemed to fail as the soft brown eyes looked straight at him once more.

Cid quickly took cover behind the crates again.

"Hey!" He shouted since he wasn't doing much good trying to be sneaky. "You are one of those damn Turks, aren't ya? Crass, or Borish or whatever the hell your name was."

"Rude." Came the muttered answer, almost too low to be heard.

"Yeah, yeah, that's it." Cid quickly scanned the hall for sights of that other one, the red head. Those two usually came in a pair and together they would be dangerous even for him, especially if they got the drop on him. "The fuck are you doin' on my ship, ya bastard?!"

"…sorry." Came a whisper.

"Sorry for what…." Cid suddenly realized he was standing in something sticky, which was weird as oil spills were usually slick. Gorge rose in his throat for a second as he realized that he was standing in a spreading pool of warm blood. Fuck. "Yer hurt?!"

No answer. Cid debated with himself fervently, then swore as he risked another peak around the corner, fully expecting to get a face-full of EMR or bullets. Nothing happened and he dared look a bit longer.

The Turk was sitting propped up against a crate, his normally tanned face ashen-grey and full of bruises. The remnants of his shades were still on his broken nose and he was pressing his bundled up suit jacket against his side to little avail. There were blood everywhere.

Crouching and still peering after that damn red-head – who, Cid just remembered, could fly a helicopter and might already be on the Highwinds bridge, steering his beloved ship to all kinds of ruin – Cid approached. Rude had obviously passed out from blood loss, his skin cold and clammy and the wound pumping blood. It might be a rouse and Cid would not put it above those damn Turks to seriously harm one of their own just to create a diversion, but even so he couldn't let a man bleed to death in his cargo hall. That kind of ghosting his ship did not need.

He quickly employed a Cure, but it was low-level and probably just bought him a few minutes. Better put those to use damn quickly. Rude was tall and in no way a small fellow; besides he was hurt and if Cid tried to carry him around he'd do more damage than good. Instead Cid found his mechanic's roller; the wheeled, low board that he used to slide under cars and into other cramped spaces and carefully loaded the Turk on that. With the board as a makeshift stretcher, he rolled Rude towards the sickbay as fast as he could.

Cid did his best, he always did. Cutting Rude's shirt off his body and peeling the suit jacket from a gods damned hole in the man's side, he quickly got to it with thread and needle and antibiotics. At least the wound was straight through so no part of the bullet was stuck in the flesh. But damn, he must have been shot at close quarters. The damage to his face was almost as bad; pieces of shades was embedded in the skin and had to be plucked out with tweezers. And the broken nose popped into place with a grisly sound of cartilage and bone. Rude was passed out through the entire thing, which was a blessing.

Finally done as well as he could – the Turk wouldn't die of blood loss, but there could always be other complications – Cid allowed himself a paus with a smoke and a cup of tea. The bridge of the Highwind was still deserted when he arrived there and no one had messed with the autopilot. Perhaps that red-head was not on the plane after all.

He made a few minor adjustments to the flight course to avoid some bad weather ahead and then returned to the sickbay. Rude was still passed out and the stitched up wound looked puffy and angrily red. Cid poked at the bloodied jacket and pieces of cut-up shirt on the floor and frowned as his boot stabbed against something hard. He crouched down and fished out a pair of well used knuckledusters, and more interestingly, a cellphone. Several calls had been made to it without Rude picking up.

Curious, Cid started to listen in on voicemail. Yeah, it was a bit of a low and sneaky thing to do, but damn it, he hadn't invited the Turk and he needed to know what's what.

What he got was an earful of increasingly worried and desperate lower-plate drawls from what must be that red-head Turk, Reno. There was an almost panicking tone to on the voicemail for his 'partner' to pick up, to let them know what was happening. The last call was not five minutes ago. Cid must have been too busy with his make-shift first aid to hear it.

He debated with himself a bit, drank some more tea and then called back on Rude's phone.

"Rude? Rude?! What the Hell, yo?!" someone screamed in his ear after barely one ring.

"This ain't Rude, it's Cid Highwind." He growled back. "Lower yer voice, ya sound like a damn yapping lap dog!"

There was a short pause. Then the voice returned, significantly lower and significantly more threatening.

"What the fuck have you done to my partner?"

"Look let's clear this out." Cid sipped his tea, looking at the unconscious man on the stretcher. "Yer Reno, right? And yer partner is Rude? Got him here right with me. But he's seriously messed up."

"I'm gonna peel Shera's face of with a knife and nail it to a doorpost, ya scum sucking son of a street whore!" Presumably Reno screamed in the other end of the phone.

Cid sighed. This is what he got for messing with these damn psychopaths.

"I didn't hurt him, you little shit! I found him shot in my cargo hall and I've patched him up best I can! And you leave Shera the Hell alone, or I'm gonna…." He floundered for a while and then decided to go really low. "I'm gonna send Cloud after all of fucking ShinRa once more!" There was a silence in the other end of the phone. *Yeah that's right. My daddy can beat up your daddy any day!* Cid grinned to himself.

"Put him on the phone. Put Rude on the fucking phone." It was half a growl and half a whine.

"Can't. He's passed out, I told you. Now, I'll return him to ya soon as I can, but I'm in the middle of a three week supply run to the most far off reaches of North Continent, and I ain't calling that off 'cause of some damn stowaway Turk alright? Ya better learn patience."

"You fucking can't – " Reno started but Cid hung up on him.

Shera would be alright. She'd better be alright! Or he'd personally missile ShinRa tower to pieces once more.

Already regretting his decisions, Cid grumbled off to get a few hours of sleep.

He woke up by someone leaning over him and almost had a damn heart attack.

"What the Hell?!" He gasped as he bolted upright in the bed, fumbling for his spear.

The bloodied, bandaged apparition next to him grunted and almost keeled over. Then he steadied himself with a wheeze.

"Phone." He muttered, making a 'give me' gesture with his hand.

"What? Rude? The hell are ya doin' up, yer fucking bleeding all over the place!" The Turk must be delirious or something; Cid let go of the spear and started to get up. He needed to get Rude back to the sickbay before he hurt himself.

"*Phone*!" Rude insisted and Cid just blinked. Then he realized he had taken the cellphone with him after his shouting match with Reno. Wordlessly he handed it over and Rude immediately called, one hand still clutched to his gravely wounded side, blood trickling out between the stitches. In the silent room, Cid could hear Reno pick up as if it wasn't in the middle of fucking night.

"Rude?"

Rude grunted. Then he pressed out.

"Peachy."

Cid could almost hear Reno's sigh of relief.

"Alright. Talk to you later, yo."

Rude only had time to snap the phone shut before he keeled over and fainted right over Cid's bed.

"Yeah, yer just fucking peachy ain't ya, ya stupid git." Cid sighed. There were no way he could move the Turk now, in the middle of night and he wasn't about to go sleep on a couch for a Turks' sake. They would just have to share.

He grumbled about it, but finally just tossed the blanket over the two of them and got back to sleep.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Rude woke up in a foreign bed, seriously hurt and Reno wasn't there. Panicking quietly he tried to locate his phone or his knuckledusters or at least his damn shades, to no avail. *I'm not tied up but that doesn't mean much. I'm so badly cut up I couldn't crawl out of here.* Yesterday was a series of hazy, bloody memories, some of which would probably make sense if he gave them time but a Turks first instinct was to fight or flee and right now he couldn't do either.

He jolted and the awful wound in his side tore open a bit as the door was kicked open.

"Hey, yer awake. Good fer ya. I brought ya breakfast." A grumpy blonde man in about his own age came in, carrying a plate with food on it and some of the pieces in Rude's head clicked into place. *The airship. Captain Highwind. I am in no direct danger.* Sure, Turks and Avalanche had fought before, but they had an uneasy truce now. And Heroes didn't just kick people of airplanes, apparently. Rude let himself relax a fraction. Then he tensed up again.

"The phone. Did I make a call last night?" He mumbled as Cid slammed down the plate and started pouring something.

"What the Hell is with ya people and yer phones? Ya called that little shithead of a friend of yers, sure."

"What did I say?" Rude pushed.

"I don't know, something about fruit." Cid shrugged, completely unaware of the mortal danger they were both in. "Heh, maybe ya said ya went bananas."

"Peachy?"

"Yeah, that's it. Why?" Cid frowned as Rude sighed with relief and slumped down in bed again.

"That is the code word for not activating the bomb."

"Bomb? What fucking bomb?!" Cid jumped.

"If a Turk goes down there is always the last resort of….blowing everything around them to pieces. As vengeance. And, depending on what they're doing to the Turk, as a last mercy." Rude closed his eyes. "I was gone so long without reporting, it must have been a matter of minutes before Tseng decided to activate. Good thing I made the call."

Cid was staring, his jaw dropped.

"Ya son of a bitch! Ya were gonna blow up my ship when I rescued ya?! I ought ta throw ya out and then ya can blow up some piece of random shit wilderness and monsters instead!"

"You are safe now, mr Highwind…."

"I don't care about being safe, I care about my fucking ship, ya hear me?! Where is that damn bomb, I'm gonna kick it out the rear end!" He started to rifle through the clothes on the floor.

"Here." Rude knocked on his chest. "It's in here, Captain Highwind."

Again Cid just stared, dumbfounded. Then, to Rude's utter surprise, he started laughing.

"Yer just fucking crazy, aren't ya? All Turks are fucking crazy, and I'm fucking crazy fer letting ya stay onboard! Here have some breakfast. Can't have ya dying on me now with all the trouble ya put me through." He handed over a cup and some small pieces of dry bread. Rude, still exhausted with bloodloss and pain, stared at it.

"What is this?" He frowned. Next to the bed, Cid was happily sipping away, dunking the small pieces in the cup.

"Tea and crackers, man. Food of the gods. Oughtta put some hair on yer chest!"

Rude sighed and started to doggedly try to get the tiny nourishment into his famished body. *It could have been worse." He told himself sternly. *It could have been a lot worse.*

Rude fell asleep after 'breakfast' and Cid studied him for a while. His features were pale and drawn by the pain but even without the suit on, he was a handsome man. Strong looking to, and not a word of complaint about pain. Stoic. Quiet. All things Cid appreciated. And he smelled of explosives, which was also….nice.

He left some more tea by the bedside, and used his Cure once more for all the good it did. And, just to be sure, he plugged in the cellphone and put it within easy reach.

Fortunately for Rude, dinner was a lot more substantial than breakfast had been. Mashed potatoes, peas and meatloaf. Again Cid came to sit by his bed as they ate which was nice. He wasn't much for talking but he liked to listen.

"So, where are we?" He asked, trying to eat neatly despite being famished. Cid had helped him sit up and packed a few pillows behind his back.

"200 miles from Bone Village, 200 miles from Icicle Inn and probably closer ta space then ta any human settlements." Cid shrugged. "Ya picked a bad time ta be a stow away if ya wanted ta reach Midgar any time soon."

"Tseng would pay you for a detour…" he started but fell quiet as Cid glared at him.

"I don't care what ShinRa does, I gave my word I'd deliver this as soon as I could and the word of Cid fucking Highwind is worth something, damn it!" The blonde scowled over his meatloaf. "Ya jest sit back and see this as an extended vacation, 'cause yer not going anywhere. There's nothing but snow for miles and miles and even when we reach Icicle Inn, the fastest way ta Midgar is still with me. So don't fuck up, don't mess up, don't be a dick and I'll fly ya back ta Midgar all nice and sweet once my job is done. And I do expect someone in ShinRa ta pay me fer fuel, Gods damn it."

Rude felt his shoulders slump, but he nodded reluctantly.

"It is your ship, captain." And there really wasn't much he could do about it; he couldn't fly a ship himself, and he had a feeling that threatening the volatile captain would get him tossed out of the cargo bay, wounded or not. Besides, it wasn't as if had anything particularly reason to get to Midgar quickly, really. The Turks could handle themselves without him for a few days now that they knew he was going to be fine.

"Why were ya in my cargo deck bleeding yer guts out anyway?" Cid asked, munching peas.

"Got shot."

"No shit." Cid rolled his eyes but didn't press the matter. Rude sighed

"A mission went wrong, I got shot and I was far away from assistance. It was pure instinct and the fact that you were leaving that made me jump your ship. I just needed to get away, fast."

"And ya didn't think ya let me know." It wasn't a question. "I don't leave people bleedin' ta death ya know. I don't even leave Turks that way."

"Blood loss. I wasn't thinking straight." He squirmed a little, not noticeable, at Cid's hard stare. "….fine. I don't trust anyone who isn't a Turk."

"Well, yer stuck with trusting me fer a week or so." Cid rose and stretched. "And I guess I'm stuck trusting ya not ta kill me in my sleep or something. See ya later. Ship won't fly itself over mountains in a snowstorm."


	3. Chapter 3

Rude forced his battered, aching body through the corridors of the Highwind - no easy feat as the damn corridor wavered like a sea at storm, plummeting only to rise the next second and slammed him from side to side. Stormwinds howled outside the hull of the ship like Bahamut Sin trying to gourge its way inside.

The Turk was more than half convinced that he'd find Cid knocked out and unconcious on the floor when he finally reached the bridge because the way the ship was being spun by the storm there were no way anyone was still in control of it but instead he found the captain whistling by the steering wheel, making some adjustments and not at all acting as if his ship were seconds away from smashing into random mountain sides.

"How long?!" Rude roared to be heard over the storm, clutching the wall and leaving blood on the floor. Cid jumped at the unexpected sound.

"What?!" He shouted back, scratching his head.

"How long to we have to prepare before we plummet to our deaths, captain? I need to make my final report to Tseng!"

Cid scowled and twisted the ship's steering wheel to avoid another mountain peak, apparently not even paying attention to were he was going. Rude's belly made another attempt to sink through the floor.

"Don't be so fucking dramatic, it's just a little storm!" He patted the steering wheel. "This baby and me has flown down fucking vulcanos, some snow aint gonna bother her!"

Rude pondered the statement.

"You didn't happen to have an unprotected affair with a red headed woman in Midgar about twently years ago?" he finally asked.

"The Hell are ya talking about now?!"

"It's just that this attitude, your flying and swearing all seems familiar..." He dodged as Cid threw a packet of smokes at him.

"Get yer ass back to bed! All will be fine by tomorrow!"

And somehow Rude didn't doubt that it would.

The next day they had passed through the stom unharmed and Rude was able to get out of bed and shuffle into a shower, with some grumpy assistance and a lot of swearing from Cid. It felt heavenly to get rid of the dried blood and pain-sweat and he couldn't bear to put on the dirty suit after. Cid had some t shirts and cargo pants to lend out which felt decadently dressed-down for a Turk. Maybe he should concider this vacation. Two new doses of Cure helped to,although he was glad not to be in active service.

He sent in a short report to Tseng, Cid put him to peeling potatoes and then there were nothing really to do but sit by the enormous windshield at the Highwind and look out on glacieres and mountains glistning in the sun and drink tea. It was very relaxing.

They landed outside the Icicle Inn two days later when the sun shone so bright and sparkled of the snow that Rude sorely missed his shades. He made do with what Cid called 'Norther'n shades' - a piece of soft, half transclucent gauze wrapped over his eyes. The cold and beauty of the place took his breath away as he helped the captain unload the much awaited cargo to the villagers. After that, they were both wisked away to the Inn to tell all news and gossip they could think of while being plyed with endless cups of rum-spiked cocoa. Uncomfortable as always with being the center of attention, Rude left the talking to Cid and kept an eye on the villagers who seemed as starved of entertainment as zombies for flesh. But Cid ahndled it with familiar ease, told his tales, shook a few hands and - not unnoticed by the Turk - handed over an enormous wad of gils in exchange for a small cardboard box. Rude noticed but said nothing.

Not until they were back at the Highwind later that night and Cid whistlingly started preparing tea. He kept the box close, but not hidden and a delicate fragrance rose from it.

"Smuggling is a lucerative side business. Didn't think you heroes would get into it, though." He eyed the container.

Cid didn't answer, but opened the box. Rude's eyebrows rose.

"Tea?" He said suprised as Cid started preparing two cups.

"Ice Tea. Not that Mideel shit, but real Ice Tea. Only ever grows up here, and only fer a few months before winter. Bets gods damned tea in the world." He handed over a cup and Rude sipped.

The tase was delicous but that wasn't what made Rude gasp fpr breath. That small sip had gone straight to his brain, leaving him as warm as fuzzy as one of Reno's best bongs and at the same time as giddy and happy as Rufus's best whiskey.

Cid grinned, sipping his own cup.

"Oh yeah, it's also mildly narcotic."

"Mildly?!" Rude sipped again. The taste bloomed in his mouth and his whole body relaxed.

"Wuss. Ya like it?"

Rude nodded. Drunk or high or whatever he was, he sure did like it but he wasn't far enough gone not to be able to see a chance like this for ShinRa when it was staring him in the face.

"You could make a fortune on this. I mean, it would be illegal, but still." It was getting hot in the Highwind, a familiar, overwhelming kind of hot pooling in his groin. *Mildly narcotic, my ass.*

Cid shrugged. He was still grinning that teasing, shit-eating grin and his eyes were fixed on Rude.

"Why are you giving ShinRa this information?" Rude frowned, not really fighting the effect on his body but not letting it get to his head. *i guess the people up here needs something to do under all those Winter months*.

"Told ya. It only grows here, and it has ta be touched by frost ta get the right, um, punch. And jest after the frost comes the winterstorms, right? Aitn' no one can get up here again until spring after that, and by then the tea is jest tea. The effect in the leaves wears of quicky."

Rude was quiet for a while, while Cid still smirked at him. Even before all the tea, Rude had concidered him an attractive man but unlike Reno he didn't often mix buisness and pleasure. The effect was only on his body, not his mind. He could have walked out of there and rubbed one out in lonely peace - or several ones, probably - but….

"No one can get up here once the storm starts...except you."

"Damn right."

"So if ShinRa wants to marked this, you will be the sole deliverer. you can charge us just about anything." He could, and he probably would. It wouldn't matter; Rufus could still sell it for te times that price to the right people. This was a high-quality product for high quality wallets. Rude reached out, tracked a finger down Cid's chest. The pilot almost arched against the touch.

"Got it in one. And I ain't delivering it until ya have made it legal, got it? It's one thing ta keep it fer my personal use and another ta bring it ta the market." Cid's knee had come up between Rude's legs, gently massaging his groin.

Rude almost smiled.

"It is far to easy to forget that you are a rocket scientist, captain."

"An' that's the way I like it. So we got a deal? We can work out the details later." He leaned in for a kiss.

"Sure." Rude answered, but a thought hit him. "What about Vincent?" Teenage level hormons wasn't enough for him to want to get himself caught between a lover and that undead murdermachine.

Cid scowled.

"Ya Turks know more than is good fer ya, ya know." He grabbed Rude's waist. "Vince and I have an understanding. It ain't easy ta have any kind of relationship with somebody who disappeares into thin air fer weeks at the time."

"I guess he does that a lot."

"Possibly, but I was talking about my self here." Piercing blue eyes landed on soft blue. "How 'bout that red head of yours? Partners, eh?"

"We have an understanding," Rude said with a smile.

A week later the Highwind landed on the helicopter pad on top of ShinRa Tower - a feat that could probably only be performed by one person in all of Gaia. Rude jumped out, his Turk suit once more cleaned and pressed and looking as deadpan as ever. He did not however fool the red head waiting on him, leaning on a rail.

You looking pretty spry, yo," Reno said suspicously as his partner walked over to him.

Rude shrugged.

"I just spent two weeks stuck on an airship with nothing to do. It's only natural that I should be rested."

"Nothing to *do*, eh?" Reno waggled his eyebrows. "Looks to me like you had plenty to do, yo."

Rude gave him a levelled stare behind his shades, taking in the suit - rumpled as always, the grin - cheeky as always, and the stance - slouching as always.

"Don't tell me you are jealous, partner. Because I spot at least two long dark hairs on you and scratch marks on your neck that are sharper than Tseng or Tifa's nails could do."

"Well, I had to have something to do, yo. Get's boring here when you're not around. He treat you good, then?" Reno kept asking.

"He's got a foul mouth."

"Yeah, but you like that."

"He gave me some tea."

"That's really boring, yo."

Rude smirked, the small bag of leaves still burning in his pocket. There would be enough left tomorrow.

"Don't trash it 'till you tried it partner."

Reno gave him a curious glance and pulled deep on his cig as they strolled towards the stairway leading back into ShinRa tower. Rude stopped to wave as the airship took off, then they fled the harsh winds into the stairwell although not fast enough for keen Turk eyes to miss a dark and red shadow leaping up on the Highwind and dissappearing into the airship through a locker.

Rude smiled faintly and felt Reno's hand in his back pocket. All was back to normal.


End file.
